


This is the Why

by masulevin



Series: Hazel Shepard [7]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Destroy Ending, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Injury Recovery, Permanent Injury, Post-Canon, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23515240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masulevin/pseuds/masulevin
Summary: It's been nine months since Shepard destroyed the reapers and ended their attack against the galaxy.It's been nine long, lonely months since she last told Kaidan she loves him.It's been nine months of waiting, but the Normandy is finally coming home.
Relationships: Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard
Series: Hazel Shepard [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1041236
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	This is the Why

**Author's Note:**

> You make my crazy feel normal, every time  
> You are the who, love is the what and this is the why  
> \- This is Why I Need You, Jesse Ruben

Hazel Shepard can’t focus on anything Hackett is saying to her, his voice a constant rumble in her ear. Her back is straight, her knees locking unless she forces them to relax, her hands clasped at the small of her back. She’s in full dress blues, uniform covering up most of her new scars, bandages, and prosthetic, but nothing can hide the red of her face and the anxiety-induced sweat gathering at her temples and under the band of her hat.

The Normandy hailed the Alliance base in London thirty-six hours before, and Hazel hasn’t slept a wink since then. She’s been counting her breaths and eating antacids like candy since she got the message, staving off a panic attack by sheer force of will, aided by dozens of mandated therapy appointments and the loving cuddles of a nine-month-old puppy.

The ship -- _her_ ship -- is supposed to land any minute now. A crowd has turned out for the occasion, complete with reporters and their vid cameras, eager to air another happy story of soldiers coming home.

All Hazel wants to do is see her family again and make sure they’re all safe. The last time she saw any of them… well, she thought it really would be the last time. She was injured, Kaidan was in danger of bleeding out, James looked like he was about to cry, and she was absolutely certain she was saying goodbye for the last time.

And now? Now she just has to make it through the next ten minutes or so and she’ll see them all again.

Cheers go up from the crowd when the Normandy appears in the sky, and Hazel’s shoulders sag as she sees the familiar outline of her ship. Hackett’s large hand claps her shoulder and then squeezes, a small comfort that helps her stand up straight once more. She glances at him from the corner of her eye and grins when she sees him already smiling at her.

“They’re coming home, Captain,” he says, voice gruff as always and pitched so only she can hear him. She offers him a somewhat watery smile in return but doesn’t try to speak, her new title still sounding strange to her ears. “You ready?”

She nods at him before forcing herself to speak through the lump firmly lodged in her throat. “I was born ready, sir.”

They stand elbow-to-elbow as the Normandy approaches the docking bay, the familiar lines of the ship making her heart hammer even faster. She closes her eyes for a few seconds to focus on her breathing again. She can _not_ faint in front of all these people. She’ll never live it down.

She opens her eyes again as another round of cheers goes up and the Normandy’s engines power down. She drifts forward without conscious decision, her feet carrying her up onto the dock just in time for the airlock to disengage with a soft hiss.

The door lowers, exposing the assembled Normandy crew. Hazel’s breath catches in her throat as she watches them march forward, all looking pale and thin but so beautiful and dressed in their best for the occasion. James stands at the front of the group, a wide smile on his face, and he stops a few feet away to salute.

She returns the gesture and feels tears beginning to prick at the corners of her eyes, gaze straying past him looking for everyone else before she even lowers her hand again with a snap.

There’s shuffling from deeper in the crowd, then a loud, “Bosh’tets! Move!” Hazel’s laughing before Tali appears, elbowing her way between the soldiers. The familiar purple suit charges at her in a blur, arms wrapping around Hazel’s waist and lifting up. Hazel wraps her arms around Tali’s shoulders and squeezes back, bending her legs at the knees squealing with laughter as they spin around and her hat falls to the ground. That’ll make for a fun clip on the evening news.

Tali puts Hazel down, and Hazel kisses her right on the top of her helmet, careful to avoid leaving a smudge in her line of sight.

More people surround them then, Tali’s enthusiasm breaking the tension that held them back. James grabs her for a hug next, then Chakwas, Steve and Liara, even Garrus is there to snag a kiss to one mandible. Everyone seems to be chatting at once, people whose names she can’t quite remember but whose faces are familiar congratulating her and thanking her for everything she did. 

She’s wiping her eyes with her gloves when she finally sees the one person she wanted to see more than anyone else. Kaidan stands behind her, taking a step closer as she turns, her hat safely in his hands. He must have scooped it up after it fell, saving it from the careless footsteps of dozens of soldiers.

He offers it to her, eyes tracing over her face and snagging on the scar still exposed on the shaved portion of her skull. Her cheeks heat as she pulls the hat back on, mostly covering the spot, and his eyes meet hers once more.

It almost feels like no one else is around them, the chatter and snapping of cameras fading into the background. She sucks in a slow breath as she takes in the changes in him, the obvious ones she can already see: the lines around his eyes, the spacer-gray of his skin, the thick silver hair at his temples. 

He’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

“Welcome home, Major.” Hackett’s voice cuts between them, pulls them back to reality and reminding them exactly where they are. Kaidan salutes the admiral and then lets himself be led away sending one last backward glance to Hazel over his shoulder.

The rest of the marines follow, loudly discussing everything they’re going to do now that they’re back on earth. The most common ones are showers and specific foods that Hazel desperately hopes are available again, but Tali’s arms around her waist drag her back to the people still standing around her.

“We were so worried about you, Shepard,” Tali says. Hazel wraps her arms around her too and squeezes tight. She drops her voice a little and adds, “Kaidan refused to put your name on our memorial wall. He just knew you were still alive.”

Something tightens in Hazel’s chest at the thought of Kaidan holding a plaque with her name on it, one to match the others on the memorial, and putting it back down. He hadn’t given up on her, and she waited for him too. She gazes after him, at the outer doors of the recently finished Alliance base. She knows he needs to debrief Hackett, but after…

“I was worried about you too,” Hazel says, finally responding before emotion completely blocks her throat. Her voice is still unsteady though, and she pushes past it as best she can. “Did you get out of the sol system before the reapers? Did your dextro rations hold? I tried to stock up, but…”

“Everything was fine, Shepard,” Garrus says, identifying her rambling and deftly heading it off. She snaps her jaw closed and smiles up at her old friend. “We made it work, but we lost EDI.”

Oh. EDI. “How’s Joker?”

“How about you ask him yourself?” Joker’s voice comes from behind her, and she spins with Tali still in her arms to see him standing in the airlock, leaning heavily on his cane. His hat is low over his forehead, like it always is, and he tilts his head back to look her in the eye. He grins, drawn and lopsided, but it’s still a smile.

Hazel releases Tali and crosses the space between them, wrapping her arms around Joker’s neck in a gentle embrace. He wraps one arm around her waist and hugs her back, squeezing firmly, but releases her just as quickly as he grabbed her.

“I’m so sorry,” Hazel breathes.

Joker grimaces. “No, listen, I’m sorry. I left you here, I should have--”

“Joker, _stop_.” Hazel hasn’t had to use her Commander Shepard voice in months now, but it’s easy enough to affect for the moment. Joker shuts up, eyes flashing in instinctive rebellion, and lets her talk. “You kept everyone else safe. Thank you.”

He just grunts, avoiding her gaze for a heartbeat as his cheeks turn pink. “I was told there’d be real food here?”

Hazel laughs and pats his shoulder, letting him change the subject without argument. She looks around for someone to help them, pauses to smile at Tali and Garrus resting their foreheads together, and then waves over one of the ensigns she vaguely recognizes from meetings on base.

“You all have rooms and showers and food,” she says. “And there’s supposed to be a celebration in a couple of days, but I want to see everyone before then. I’ll have to stock up on booze, but I’ll be sure to invite you first.”

Joker’s next smile is a little sad, but he nods at her. The rest of her friends follow the ensign into the building, leaving Hazel alone to smile after them.

One of the reporters turns toward her with his camera, and Hazel turns on her heel to head back to her little house. She isn’t in a place to talk to any reporters right now, and she wants to be ready the _second_ Kaidan is done debriefing Hackett.

She messages him while she’s walking, using it as another excuse to avoid everyone’s eyes.

_ > Tell me when you’re free. I missed you. _

She gets a response after just a couple of hours, Kaidan’s special tone sounding from her omnitool and making her heart jump into her throat. Cinnamon perks her ears up and makes a questioning half-bark, and Hazel scratches her ears as she reads the message.

_ > Where are you? I missed you too. _

She sends her navpoint and stands up to pace, debating whether to put on nicer clothes or stay in what are basically pajamas that cover her scars, trying to decide what to and what to say, waiting exactly nine minutes before letting Cinnamon out into the fenced area of the yard to give her and Kaidan some privacy.

He opens her front door two minutes later, hat clutched in one gloved hand and duffle bag in the other, cheeks flushed, hair beginning to curl at his temples, and freezes with his feet on the doorstep.

Hazel stands with her fists clenched, halfway across the room, and stares back at him. The shattered look on his face reminds her so much of the way he looked at her when she left him on that shuttle with James, like his heart is being ripped from his chest and a strong breeze will blow him over.

She’s been waiting and hoping for him to walk through her door since the day she moved in, and now that he’s finally here? She can’t breathe.

He wavers, exhaustion written on every line of his face, and she finally finds her words to speak.

“Goddamn, you look sexy in your dress blues, Kaidan,” she says, even though that’s not what she meant to say, it’s not even what she _planned_ to say, but it startles him into movement. He laughs, a choked off noise, and he swings her door shut behind him as he crosses the room to her.

He drops his belongings and grabs her shoulders as soon as he gets close enough to reach her, pulling her body against his so he can bury his face in the crook of her neck. She wraps her arms around him, holding him close, and lets her tears fall as his shoulders begin to shake.

She runs the fingers of her good hand through his hair, now with defined streaks of gray instead of the dignified touch at his temples. Her bad hand, the one still in bandages so long after the explosions on the Citadel, just rests on the back of his head to hold him against her as he sobs out his relief.

When his tears begin to calm, she pulls away enough to cup his face in her hands. He does the same for her, fingers tracing over the mottled scarring on the left side of her jaw, his eyes studying the still-healing scar that curves behind her other ear, tears glistening on his lashes and cheeks.

“I told you I’d be waiting for you,” she says, rubbing her thumbs over his cheekbones. He laughs again, the sound watery, and then he’s finally kissing her. He tastes just as good as she remembers, like eezo and coffee, and a moan pushes its way out of her throat as he pulls her even closer.

He’s smaller than he used to be, the dress uniform not sitting quite right after months in space with limited resources, but just being in his arms again is almost enough to make up for it. The Normandy hadn’t been stocked for a lengthy voyage, and the longer they were away, the worse her worry became. Maybe they found other ships and other planets to restock on their way?

She needs to ask, to get the details about how they survived after they outran the reapers, but… not right now. Right now, all she can think about is the feeling of his body against hers at long last.

He bends into her space and lifts her, old habit leading his movements. She smiles against his lips and wraps her legs around his waist as he carries her the few steps from where they’re standing to the closest flat surface. The kitchen counter is hard and cold through her sweatpants, but Kaidan’s lips are soft against her neck, tracing reverently over the scars from a healed burn.

“Kaidan…” His name slips from her lips as her fingers grip his hair, pulling his face back to hers so she can kiss him properly once more. She drops her legs from around his waist and slips down from the counter, even as she holds his face against hers and slides her tongue against his. She breaks free and takes his hand. “Come on.”

He follows her, silent, tears still threatening to fall down his cheeks, through her house to her bedroom. The sun’s still high enough in the sky that she doesn’t bother to flip the light on; she just stands at the edge of the bed and turns back into Kaidan’s arms. 

He rests his forehead against hers and takes deep, measured breaths as her shaking fingers undo the buttons of his jacket, polished up to regulation shine. She drops the jacket on the chair she sits in to read when she can’t sleep and moves to unbutton the white shirt he’s still wearing. He catches her hands when they’re halfway down his chest and turns them over to stare at her fingers.

Her right hand was burned the same as the side of her neck and jaw, but the wounds have healed into scars only a bit lighter than her natural skin tone. He traces his thumb over her scarred knuckles just as gently as he traces his thumb over the compression bandage on her left hand. The skin there is still healing, still shiny and pink, but he can’t see.

Their eyes meet again and she can read the question in his, the apology for not being there for her at the end. She shakes her head and kisses him to make him forget or to at least make him think about something else for right now. She doesn’t want the reminder of everything that happened, not now, and she has more to show him.

She finishes unbuttoning his shirt and his hands rest on her hips, slipping up under the hem of her hoodie to rest on her warm skin. She moans as she pushes his shirt off his shoulders, and bends to press a line of kisses across his jaw and throat. He tips his head back with a sigh, eyes squeezed closed but a furrow still between his eyebrows.

“Oh, I missed you,” she says, whispering against his skin, and his fingers tighten on her hips to hold her body steady against his. “Come on. Sit down.”

Kaidan does, turning and sitting on the bed. His dress shirt falls to the floor and his hair sticks up from her fingers as he leans down to untie his boots. Hazel hesitates with her hand on the zipper of her hoodie and her feet posed to push her shoes off, accidentally stalling long enough that Kaidan notices.

“What’s wrong?” That furrow deepens and Hazel’s heart cracks just a little at the sight. 

Still, she hesitates. He reaches for her hips again and pulls her closer to stand between his legs, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles through her clothes. She kisses the wrinkle between his eyebrows before she tries to speak, to explain herself.

“I was… pretty banged up after everything,” she explains, words halting and hard to force between her lips. “It took a lot to get me healthy again. I don’t… I look a lot different, Kaidan.”

He stares at her with his usual steady expression, eyes following the lines of her body like he’s just now seeing the clothes she chose to see him alone for the first time, all designed to completely cover her from collarbones to toes, and then he reaches for her zipper with a steady hand.

She lets him pull it down, then shrugs the hoodie off and lets it fall to the floor. She still has a tank top on, but it does little to hide the scars that swirl from right hand to right elbow and the bandage from left fingers to left bicep. He meets her eyes again and offers her a small smile before lifting her scarred hand to his lips.

He kisses her knuckles, then turns her hand over and presses his lips against the inside of her wrist, smiling against her skin when her breath catches. 

He squeezes her fingers again, then says, “Show me.”

She swallows hard and nods, reassured by his initial reaction but that old anxiety still curling in her chest. She stays within his grip and lifts her tank over her head and drops it to the floor with her jacket. Scars from incisions and stitches rest evenly across her stomach, and Kaidan ducks his head to kiss each one with a gentle reverence that brings the tears back to Hazel’s eyes.

She coughs to clear her throat, and he kisses the valley between her breasts. He slides his hands from her waist down the swell of her hips and tucks his fingertips just inside the elastic of her waistband. He kisses her once more and then rests his chin on her chest to look up at her, and she bends down to press her lips to his before she nods.

“There’s just one more thing,” she murmurs, and then she puts her hands on his wrists to push them down along with her pants.

They land in a gray puddle around her feet, pooling around her house shoes and exposing her legs to him -- both her healthy leg and the synthetic prosthesis Miranda helped fit her with. Kaidan’s hands still on her thighs, the sensation of his hand on her prosthesis a barely-there pressure through the cybernetic implants. She takes a deep, shuddering breath as his thumbs trace circles on her thighs and he rests his forehead against her chest.

She runs her fingers into his hair and holds him tight against her until he tilts his head to kiss her stomach once more. He’s murmuring something against her skin, a pleasant rumble until she finally catches his words: “I’m sorry, Hazel… I’m so sorry…”

“Hey.” She tightens her grip in his hair and tilts his head up so she can catch his gaze. His eyes are dark and shadowed, guilt written in every line of his face. “You came back. That’s all that matters to me.”

He presses his lips together into a tight line. “You were _alone._ You were hurt, and you needed me, and… I wasn’t there.”

She cups his jaw and strokes her thumbs over his cheekbones, the wetness against her fingers going unmentioned. “If you were with me, we might both have died. You were keeping yourself safe, keeping the Normandy and my crew safe, and you came home. I have you back, and now I’m not letting you go. Okay? Don’t apologize again.” 

He nods. “Okay.”

She studies his face for another second and then pushes him back on the bed. He scoots away from her and she follows, climbing onto his lap with her knees on either side of his hips. His hands rest on her back to pull her closer, and when their lips meet again it’s with an intensity to match their first kiss in the kitchen. His acceptance of her scars and _her_ refusal to listen to his apology for leaving her on earth have left them with nothing more to say.

She bites his lower lip as he slides one hand up her spine to the clasp of her bra, his other hand traveling down to slip under the band of her panties to rest on the curve of her bare ass. They remove her bra as a team and then he rolls over, pinning her to the bed with his hips pressing between her thighs, and she drags his mouth to hers for another bruising kiss. 

She scratches her fingernails down his back just to hear him hiss and arch into the sensation, then tugs at the back of his belt to remind him he’s still wearing his pants and she wants them _off._ She wants to feel his skin against hers again; she wants to feel him inside of her again.

He sits back on his heels and stares down at her flushed face, and she takes advantage of his distraction to reach between them and yank at his belt. She manages to get it halfway undone before he takes over, unbuttoning his pants with trembling hands as she arches her hips up to pull her panties down and then off.

When he leans back down, she wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders, holding him as close as she possibly can. He accepts her embrace, pressing his bare chest against hers, and runs his hand down her side to her thigh to tug her closer just like he always used to. She flinches when his fingers touch the juncture of her prosthesis, and he breaks their kiss to look down at her, moving his hand to the bed to hold himself up.

Her face feels hot, and she knows her cheeks are pink when she forces out, “Sorry.” He narrows his eyes at her, so she tentatively asks, “Does it bother you?”

He blinks once before answering with another question. “Does it bother _you?”_

She shakes her head, hair rustling against the blanket. “No.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” she says, then pauses before adding, “Not right now, anyway. It does sometimes if I wear it too long.”

He nods and licks his lips, eyes dropping to her bare breasts before snapping back to her eyes. “Then it doesn’t bother me.”

She releases a shaky breath and pulls him back down. He goes easily, returning his hand to her thigh. This time, she doesn’t flinch away, just lets him explore with careful fingers this new part of her. Their bodies rock together in slow movements that gradually become more and more intense as the months apart make them increasingly desperate to feel each other again.

They can’t keep their lips apart; each time Kaidan moves to kiss down her throat or under her jaw, he follows the almost magnetic pull back to her mouth. She whines and parts her lips, accepting his tongue and meeting it with her own. She reaches between them with her good hand and guides him into her.

He fills her slowly, stretching her in a smooth glide until he bottoms out and groans aloud at their joining. She whines and clutches him tighter, ankles locking behind his back, real under new, and pulls him as close as he can physically get. 

He rests his forehead against hers and takes deep breaths, holding perfectly still while tears gather at the outside corners of her eyes. This feels exactly how it used to, exactly how it always has, and somehow better for all the effort they put into finding each other again.

She died once. She _almost_ died countless times. She was minutes away from dying before a rescue team found her on the Citadel, and yet… here she is, alive and whole, safe in Kaidan’s arms after he fought his way back from the other side of the galaxy for her.

“I love you,” she chokes out, speaking before she makes a conscious decision to let him in on what she’s thinking. “I love you _so much.”_

Kaidan’s laugh is watery, but he tilts his head to kiss her once more before he responds. “I love you too,” he says. “Until the end of time.”

She sobs once and then clutches him even tighter as he finally begins to move his hips, drawing slowly out of her before pushing back in at a torturously slow pace. She moans as he kisses her tears away, his thrusts staying strong and steady and slow. He hasn’t been inside her since the night before they made it to earth, and she hasn’t kissed him since she was putting him on the Normandy to save his life.

She tries to pull him even closer, one hand clutching at his hair and the other scratching at his back, and he buries his face in the crook of her neck as he groans out his own pleasure. His hips speed up and then slow again, his careful rhythm faltering, and she knows he’s close.

It’s been a long time.

Hazel squeezes her eyes closed and focuses on these sensations that she’s waited on for so long. Kaidan’s body pressed to hers, his cock inside of her pressing in a slow, delicious glide, his lips and teeth on the skin of her neck…

She can’t stop her tears, but she can’t stop her fast-building orgasm either. Kaidan’s seemingly innate talent at bringing her pleasure, the same one he brags about in her ear when he’s had too much to drink, hasn’t gone away in their time apart. She doesn’t try to fight it; she just focuses on the sensation and comes with a tiny cry as it washes over her, making her tremble and clutch Kaidan even tighter.

He lifts his head and watches the expression of bliss on her face before it becomes too much, and then he presses his forehead to hers and groans silently as he lets himself go. He loses his rhythm and thrusts into her hard, almost too hard, and then her name falls from his lips as he pushes as deep as he can and spills inside of her.

She relaxes her legs and props her feet up on the bed, stroking his back with gentle hands until he collapses with all of his weight on her chest. She huffs out a dramatic sigh and he laughs, curling onto his side and pulling her against his chest again.

She nuzzles against him, basking in his warmth even as cool air hits her back, and she smiles against his skin.

This is why she fought so hard to get healthy and regain her strength. This is what she's been waiting for.

Everything is finally okay.

\---

When Kaidan wakes again, it's to warm golden sunlight filtering through the curtains and an empty bed. He blinks up at the unfamiliar ceiling before a smile makes its way over his face. Hazel’s pillows smell like her, and the sheets smell like sex, and arousal begins to swirl in him again as he gives himself a moment to appreciate the soft bed and replay the memory of their afternoon together.

After everything that happened last time he was in London, and all the months it took to make it back across the Milky Way, he wasn’t confident that he’d see her again. He pretended to be, he encouraged the others to work hard, keep their spirits up, and make it back home, he refused to put her name on that damn memorial wall, but…

She screamed when she was drawn up the beam into the Citadel. He heard her over the coms until the sound cut out completely, and then he woke up in the medbay with Chakwas standing over him hours later and on the other side of the Charon relay with only the crew’s reports telling him that Shepard had done it again. She’d saved the galaxy, destroyed the reapers, and… probably died.

But probably wasn’t enough, not when it came to her.

Kaidan rubs his hands over his face, palms scratching over a day’s worth of beard on his chin and cheeks, and then forces himself to sit up before his mood can turn maudlin. Hazel is _here_ with him, somewhere in this house, and he’s going to find her and hold her again.

His bag has somehow made its way into the bedroom, and his dress uniform is hanging up on the door to her closet, wrinkles carefully smoothed out of the fabric. He smiles as he digs through the clothes he brought with him -- half his, half the ones she left behind on the Normandy that he knows she’ll have missed, like the ridiculous Blasto tank and the shirt she got for running the Vancouver marathon -- until he finds a pair of sweatpants to pull on. 

The smell of baking cookies greets him as he steps out of her bedroom, and his stomach immediately rumbles its approval. Hazel stands with her back to him at the sink, wearing just a tank top and panties, humming tunelessly to herself as she works.

His chest tightens at the sight. If he could wake up to this every day…

A dog barks. He blinks in confusion, then looks down at a blur of brown fur hurtling straight for his legs. He takes a step back out of instinct, but the dog slides to a stop and wags its tail at him, sniffing first his pants and then his hands when he holds them out for approval. The dog gives him a thorough investigation, then licks his knuckles before sitting down and lifting up a paw.

Kaidan kneels down and buries both hands in the thick fur around the dog’s neck, and accepts one enthusiastic dog-kiss on his chin before he looks up and sees Hazel watching them both with a fond smile on her face. She has a sponge in one hand and her other, carefully encased in a rubber glove to protect her healing skin, resting on the counter, her hips cocked so that her weight rests on her real leg and the toes of her prosthesis rest on the kitchen floor.

“Glad to see you two getting along,” she says, still grinning. “That’s Cinnamon.”

He drops his eyes back to the dog, who’s still staring up at him with a look of pure affection. “Nice to meet you, Cinnamon,” he says, and the dog manages to lick the tip of his nose before he can pull away. Hazel snickers, and he stands up to go to her. The dog follows, jumping up and nosing at his hand every few steps to get more scratches.

“Sleep well?” Hazel’s question comes just as Kaidan’s pulling her into his arms, the end of it muffled as she presses her face against his bare chest. He eyes the sudsy water and then buries his face in her hair as he nods.

“Mhmm…” He squeezes her tighter and she kisses his chest, pressing up onto her toes to brush her lips across his skin and up his neck until she can catch his lips. He smiles against her, relishing the feel of her in his arms again after so long, and brushes his tongue across her lower lip once before pulling away. It takes her a moment to open her eyes again, but the expression on her face when she finally does makes him want to forget everything else and haul her back into the bedroom.

Instead, he lifts his hand to trace along the scar behind her ear, moving slowly so she can pull away if she wants. It’s smooth under his fingertips, a few raised edges where stitches held it closed before medigel could be applied. She tilts her head to the side and lets him look at it more closely, which he does even though it makes his stomach turn. 

“What happened?”

She does pull away now, using the dishes as an excuse for the movement. She speaks as she wipes a measuring cup, and he takes a step back to give her some space.

She sighs before answering. “I was almost ready to be released from the hospital when I got an infection. I don’t really remember most of it, but I know I had to have surgery. You can look through my medical file if you want. I have it on a datapad somewhere around here.” She gestures at the kitchen, and at her whole house in general, with the sponge, and Kaidan nods even though she can’t see.

He steps back into her space and wraps his arms around her waist. She leans back into his touch without hesitation, tilting her head to the side to give him room to put his chin on her shoulder. He does, but not before pressing a kiss to that scar. She huffs out a laugh and twists her head around to grab a real kiss from him, which he gives her with a wide smile and a contented feeling settling deep in his chest.

The only thing that would make this better would be…

“There’s coffee behind you.”

Yes, that’s the thing. Kaidan kisses her cheek, enthusiastically enough to make her giggle and push him away with her elbow, and he spins around to eye the coffee maker sitting on the counter. The pot is still half-full, a mug next to it, and he pours himself a drink with that smile still on his face.

“I ordered in for dinner,” she informs him, and he can hear the smile in her voice too. “Joker already invited everyone over for dinner tomorrow -- I told him today was too soon, since we still have some catching up to do.” Hazel glances over her shoulder at him and winks, and Kaidan chuckles as he fills his mug with coffee. “Cream’s in the fridge,” she adds, turning back to the sink even though it shouldn’t really take that long to wash a few dishes.

Kaidan watches her for another second before turning his attention to the little fridge next to him. He carries his coffee with him but pauses with the steam rising up in front of him to look at the pictures covering the door, all held there with magnets.

There’s one of Cinnamon, he guesses, a painfully cute puppy with a sock in her mouth and one ear flipped inside out. There's the one they all took during the party at Anderson’s apartment, where everyone is drunk and happy. There are pictures of everyone from the ship, sometimes in pairs like EDI and Joker and again with James and Steve. There's a picture of Sugar in its little cage on her bookshelf -- Kaidan actually cried when the little thing finally died a few months into their return journey, mourning once more everything the war took from them -- and there are pictures of people he doesn't recognize from her fight with the Collectors.

He noticed her taking more pictures, but it never occurred to him that she kept them all or that she might pay for physical copies to keep around.

There are other pictures too, of the two of them, right in the center. Pictures of them laughing together, of them dressed up and at the casino, one of him holding her from behind and kissing her cheek in the galley when he thought they were alone -- someone else must have taken that and given it to her when he wasn't paying attention. He'd bet on Tali’s interference.

The last picture makes him laugh, the sound bursting from him before he can stop it. “Why do you have this one?” He asks, and when he turns to point it out to her, she's already smiling easily back at him, like she knows. She probably does.

“You know I can’t resist that ass, Kaidan,” she says, grinning widely at him. It makes her eyes wrinkle at the corners, and he isn’t sure she had those lines last time he saw her. She purposefully rakes her eyes over his body, from his face down to his ass and back up again, then flashes him a soapy thumbs-up.

He thought he’d become immune to her ridiculous flirting, but his resistance must have left him during their time apart. He feels his face growing hot, and that just embarrasses him more. He turns away from her and pulls the fridge open to hide his burning cheeks, and ignores the way she laughs at him.

A little cream in his coffee makes it perfect for him to drink, and he sighs as he tastes it. They ran out of coffee on the Normandy, and drinking it again? Worth every second of withdrawal.

Hazel’s hands are dry when he turns around, and she’s looking at him with an indecipherable expression. He closes her fridge door and takes another sip of his coffee, waiting to see if she’ll give voice to her thoughts or if it’s something she wants to push away.

Her omnitool dings before either of them has a chance to speak. She jumps, visibly startled, but shuts off the alarm before turning to the oven to pull out a little tray of cookies. The smell makes Kaidan’s mouth water, and he finds himself floating closer to the pan even though he knows they’ll be too hot to eat just yet. 

Predictably, Hazel slaps his hand away. He grabs hers instead and pulls her into him for a kiss, and she laughs against his lips. It’s a feeling he’s missed, and he chases it, stepping into her and wrapping his free arm around her waist to draw her body against his. She lets him pull her closer, folding against his body like she always did, like she always _does,_ and he puts his mug down so he can wrap both arms around her instead.

He never wants to let her go.

They’re still standing in the kitchen when a knock sounds at the door, bodies locked together and leaning against the counter, breaths coming heavy and hearts beating hard enough to make Hazel’s hands tremble where they’re clutching Kaidan’s warm skin. Cinnamon lets out three loud, echoing barks as she runs full-speed for the front of the house, and Kaidan drags his mouth away from Hazel’s to draw in a deep breath. 

She rests her forehead against his chest and whines, and he laughs in spite of the frustration swirling deep in his gut at the interruption. She did say that she ordered dinner in… cooking never was her favorite kitchen activity.

She takes a very slow step back and drags her fingers down his sides, making his muscles twitch, and then she decides to make everything worse by sliding one hand between his legs to cup his cock. It’s already half-hard from before, and the sensation of her fingers wrapping around it makes his whole body twitch and forces a groan from his throat. He grabs for her wrist and she giggles at him, slipping out of his grasp and heading for the door.

“Maybe you should stay there,” she says, tossing the teasing words over her shoulder as she grabs a thin robe from the back of a chair to pull on before opening the door. He obeys, standing exactly where he is and grabbing a still-hot cookie as a consolation prize while he waits.

He can’t see whoever’s at the door, but he can hear Hazel making idle conversation while she pays for their dinners, her gentle laughter floating back to him from the other side of the house. The taste of melted chocolate bursts on his tongue as he bites into the cookie, and he leans his head back and closes his eyes to focus on the sensation.

Hazel’s laughing at him when he opens his eyes, and he smiles back out of instinct. Her robe is open and teasing, and the scent of their dinner wafts between them. His mouth waters and he swallows convulsively, making her giggle again. 

“Happy to be back on earth?” she asks, pulling containers and chopsticks out of the bag. She glances up at him from the corner of her eye, and he lets himself be pulled back into her orbit. 

“I’m happy to be home,” he says, and he leans down to kiss her temple so she’ll be absolutely certain what he means. She elbows him in the side, but when he stands up straight he can see her blushing again. She knows.

They eat together on her couch in companionable silence, Cinnamon keeping an eye on them from the closest rug just in case they drop anything she can eat. When they don’t, she flops onto her side with a heavy sigh and falls asleep.

“How did you end up with her?” Kaidan asks between mouthfuls, his eyes darting over to Cinnamon’s dark fur and then up to meet Hazel’s soft gaze.

She hasn’t eaten much, pushing the food around in its container more often than she’s taking bites, but she answers easily enough. “One of my nurses took in some of the strays that survived after the war.” She pauses to take a bite and shifts around on the couch to tuck her toes under his thigh. “One of them had puppies he wasn’t expecting, and he kept bringing pictures into the hospital. They were old enough to be adopted by the time I was getting released, and…” 

Hazel shrugs. Cinnamon’s tail thumps against the floor, like she knows they’re talking about her even though no one’s said her name. 

“She’s a good girl.” Cinnamon lifts her head when she hears _good girl,_ and Kaidan chuckles. “She learned to wake me up if I start having a nightmare, and she has some friends at the p-a-r-k.” 

Kaidan laughs again when Hazel spells the word park, scraping the last of his rice directly into his mouth before he finishes chuckling. Hazel’s staring right at him with a soft smile when he looks back at her, and he can’t resist the temptation to set his empty container aside and tug her into his lap.

She puts her food down next to his as she settles with her knees on either side of his hips, and he smiles up at her. His heart clenches, and he realizes his eyes are wet again when she brushes her thumbs across his cheekbones. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

What he’s thinking? He’s thinking that he loves her so much it hurts, that he missed her every day while the Normandy struggling back to the Sol system, that he wants to hold her here and never let her go, that he still kind of thinks he’s dreaming because there’s no way the universe would bring her back to him twice?

He kisses her instead of answering, and she smiles against his lips. The kiss lingers, deepens, and he slips his hands under the hem of her tank to press against her skin. He missed how warm she always was when she was stuck on earth. He doesn’t want to let her go.

Just as that thought crosses his mind, Hazel’s slipping free of his grasp and laughing at the noise of protest that slips unintentionally from his lips.

“I have to go take care of this,” she says, holding up her still-bandaged hand before leaning back down to kiss him again, “and then maybe you can come find me in, like, twenty minutes?” Another kiss, longer. “And we can finish getting reacquainted?”

Honestly, he’s not sure if he’ll ever finish getting _reacquainted_ with her, not now that they’re finally together without the treat of the end of civilization hanging over their heads, but she’s slipping free of him before he can try and pull her back into his lap where he really wants her.

When she’s clear of his grasping hand, she hands him her half-empty takeout container and offers him a soft grin when he tucks into it right away. It’s not the earth food he grew up with, but it’s miles better than everything he’s eaten on the Normandy. He watches with his mouth full of lo mein as she starts to dig through a small desk tucked against the wall by their couch, unashamedly staring at her ass when she bends at the waist to look through the bottom drawer.

The smirk she gives him when she straightens up and turns around lets him know she did that on purpose.

“Here.” She tosses two items on the couch next to him: one, a bottle of antacids, the other a datapad with the face still lit up where she’d checked its contents. “See you in a bit.”

She drags her fingertips across his shoulders as she passes behind him, and he can hear her open the sliding door to let Cinnamon outside, but his eyes are focused on the datapad now. He can clearly see the name of a hospital at the top, and then he can see her name and ID number once he brings the screen closer to his face.

He reads through the entries as he finishes her dinner, skimming through the data to find the information he needs to understand everything Hazel went through while he was gone.

Much of it is what he expected: extensive second- and third-degree burns, left leg crushed, multiple organ failure from cybernetics crashing, blood loss, coma… His stomach turns and he sets aside the last of her food, reaching for the antacids instead as he continues reading about the treatments, the life-saving surgeries that they weren’t sure would work, the pain she must have been in…

When she finally started to wake up, she had been confused and combative, and they’d had to keep her sedated for a while until they were sure she wouldn’t hurt herself. One of the nurses wrote that she kept asking for her husband, and Kaidan tilts his head to the side at that. Interesting.

Physical therapy came after they stopped with the sedation, starting from the very basics, much to Hazel’s recorded dismay. She gained strength with what must have been agonizing slowness, and just as she was getting used to her prosthesis, she developed a low-grade fever that quickly spiraled into sepsis and cerebral edema -- and an emergency surgery that gave her the scar on her scalp that’s still healing.

Kaidan has his own scars from that last battle with the reapers. He needed his own transfusion after Hazel put him on that shuttle and told him she loved him for what they both thought would be the last time. He hadn’t left her of his own free will, but the guilt that she fought through so much without him by her side consumes him.

He should have been there with her. He should have been there to support her. She waited for him, and where was he?

He puts the datapad and antacids back on her desk, then throws away the takeout so Cinnamon won’t be able to get into it. He puts the cookies into a little container, puts the pan in her sink, washes out the coffee pot so they can have more in the morning.

When he’s given her as much space as he can, he follows her into her bedroom. She’s sitting on her side of the bed, now wearing one of his shirts, massaging her left thigh where her prosthesis had been. The leg itself is propped up in the corner, plugged into an outlet in the wall.

She catches his eye as he hesitates in the doorway. “If you apologize again, I’m sending you to sleep in the Alliance dorms,” she says. There’s a bite in her tone, but she’s smiling a little to make sure he knows she’s not mad at him; not yet, anyway.

He just nods and grabs his bag to take to the bathroom. A shower helps him feel better, and by the time he’s ready to go back to bed, Hazel is tucked under the covers with her head on the edge of his pillow. 

He climbs in with her, gathering her up in his arms. She goes willingly, tucking her smaller body against his. The top of her head fits right under his chin, her hair tickling his throat as she gets as close as she can to his warmth.

“This is nice,” she says, voice quiet but obviously too alert to sleep. She trails her fingers down his side, stopping at the waistband of his sweats to tickle across his lower back. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he says, voice raw and honest. She kisses his chest and digs her fingernails into his back. His breath catches in his chest and he clutches her tighter, and he smiles when he hears her chuckle against the hollow of his throat. “You, _ah_ …” His voice catches too as he feels her teeth against the underside of his chin. “When were you planning on telling me we got married?”

This makes her laugh, and she shifts a little to look him in the eye. “Imagine my confusion when I finally woke up enough for the nurses to tell me that they were trying to track my husband down, but weren’t sure who Kaidan Shepard was.”

She beams at him and he can’t help his answering chuckle. “How did they get there?”

“I guess I kept asking for ‘Kaidan,’ and since I still had that ring EDI gave me on my dog tags, they assumed it was from you. Somewhere in there, ‘Kaidan’ turned into ‘Kaidan Shepard’.” She pauses, then adds, “Hackett thought it was a little less funny than I did, but he understood after we talked about it. He can’t exactly get mad at two Spectres for what they do when they’re saving the world.”

She stops talking long enough for him to muffle the rest of his laugh against her lips, sighs when he rolls them so he’s leaning over her with his weight balanced on his elbows. She buries her fingers in his hair, pulling tight enough to make delicious little sparks of pain dance across his skin and down to his chest.

When he moves to kiss her throat, she’s ready to start talking again, smile still evident in her voice, “I guess I figured we’d keep our own names, but I have to say I like the sound of Kaidan Shepard.” She’s laughing and he’s shaking his head as he nips at the base of hers throat. She moans and arches into his touch as he slips one of his hands beneath the shirt she’s wearing to touch her bare skin.

“Whatever you want, Shepard,” he says, and then he sighs against her skin when she starts giggling harder. 

She puts her hands on either side of his jaw and drags his face back to hers. “I’m not laughing at you,” she says, still laughing. “I’m just happy.”

He kisses her then, and then there’s not much time for talking, just for touches and kisses and moans and gasps for breath. Before, when they were both on the Normandy, their couplings were almost desperate. Now, they have all the time in the galaxy to become reacquainted, to learn new scars and retrace familiar patterns with lips and tongue.

Kaidan settles between her legs, holding them open with his hands on her thighs and his tongue inside her, enjoying a slow exploration to remind himself exactly what she likes, exactly how to make her unravel, and exactly when to pull away to keep her on the edge.

Hazel tugs at his hair and digs her foot into his back and cries out without shame. When she finally breaks, it feels like it lasts forever; her voice fails her scream and she falls silent, the shaking of her thighs around Kaidan’s head the best way he can tell she’s still overcome.

When she pulls at his hair again, he climbs her, pressing his hips to hers and resting his elbows on either side of her body. She blinks her eyes up at him and meets his gaze as he enters her, watching the emotions playing out over his face. It’s a pleasure so intense that it looks like pain, his eyebrows drawn together and his lips parted, then a relieved puff of breath and a small smile quirking the corners of his mouth.

Then she can’t keep her eyes open, can’t even think, as he begins to move his hips.

She falls apart twice more before he joins her, each time lasting longer than the last. Her nails leave little half-moon shapes in his shoulders, a set of three scratches along his ribs, another up his spine. He leaves a bruise near her collarbone, another on her breast, and then he buries himself in her as deep as he can and shudders through his own release with a low groan.

“Mmm. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of that.” She cups his jaw and brings him down for a shaky kiss. “I love you.”

He rests enough of his weight on her chest that she wheezes out a laugh, kissing her until she pushes him away. He waits until he’s pressed against her side, arms around her and forehead pressed to her temple, to respond.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
